


I Can Remember

by cloudwisp



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Blanket Nests, Fluff, M/M, Vampires, alcohol mention, blood mention, death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 07:37:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2724101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudwisp/pseuds/cloudwisp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having not seen his reflection in countless years Jean, drunk and slightly emotional, asks Marco to describe his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can Remember

**Author's Note:**

  * For [supportingcharacters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/supportingcharacters/gifts).



> happy birthday viola sweetheart <3
> 
> hope you enjoy!

Jean tips his final beer can upward and drinks down the last drops of alcohol, I watch as his prominent Adam’s apple bobs up and down enticingly. He sighs deeply and throws it to the side where it lands with the other cans we had gotten through that night. The blonde then slumps back into the sofa cushions and blankets we had laid out on the floor earlier in a make-shift nest.

My position on the floor amid all the fabrics and plush pillows is so comfy and I don’t ever want to move from this spot, I wouldn’t have to – believe me when I say Jean and I have _plenty_ time to waste. Jean is lying beside me and I reach out and grab his hand where it rests by mine, intertwining our fingers. The icy cold of his hand matches my own and I give it a light squeeze.

I feel the cushions beneath me shifting as Jean rolls onto his side to face me. I finish my can of shitty beer as Jean did, throw it in the general direction we had the others before and roll onto my side as well. I smile at Jean gently and he returns the look, his snake bites moving with his lips as they turn up at the corners.

Neither of us talk for a while and then Jean opens his mouth to say something into the silence. Before the words pass his lips, however, the blonde falters and clamps his mouth shut with a ‘clack’ of his teeth. My eyebrows furrow and I tilt my head in question.

“What’s it?” I ask, ghosting the tips of my fingers down the side of his face and the light stubble at his jaw.

He thinks over what he wants to say with a crease between his brows before he answers, “You ever wondered what’cha look like?”

My eyes widen in surprise, I wasn’t expecting that at all. We've been together, travelling, hiding, keeping each other safe for years and years but he’s never asked me anything of this kind before; it never seemed to be something he worried over. Appearances aren’t high on our list of priorities (not getting killed being right at the top).

I’ve never really thought about what I look like really but now I do, I realise I can’t even remember how I looked before I was turned. I haven’t seen my own face in so long I feel as if I’m trying to recall someone that I’ve never even laid eyes upon. I think I had dark hair and dark eyes but that’s all I seem to remember from back then. Oh, and freckles.

I still know I have freckles since I have them scattered across my entire body not just my face. I even have a few small tattoos on my arms and chest connecting some of the dots to create tiny constellations – it was Jean’s idea, he loves them; when we lay beside one another in bed sometimes I feel Jean trace the thin black lines with his icy fingertips admiringly. He says it’s poetic, how I’m painted with stars and that we’re both so called ‘creatures of the night’. At first I just rolled my eyes at the idea but over time the tiny tattoos have grown in number and I’m pretty fond of them. 

Jean was turned around twenty years after me but he must have trouble remembering too. 

I say nothing but I nod my head to answer my lover's question.  I can see how he’s interested in what he looks like. 

I know I must have changed a lot, if not from physical aging but from growing more mentally mature. My hair style, body and posture have changed with the times too. I can see those changes in Jean. The blonde has such an old feel to him even though he was changed when he was just nineteen. He never had that sharp glint of danger in his golden eyes when we first met, nor did he frown so much. Now, he’s in an almost constant state of wariness and stress that shows on his features. The times that Jean relaxes are few and far between – he likes to take all the responsibility. “I will protect you, Marco” is his favourite line, he likes to act as if he’s some kind of superman. I’m not saying I don’t appreciate what he does for me but I wish he’d let loose a lot more. I can look after myself just fine, I went years without him around. 

This Jean is so different when I compare him to the Jean from all those years ago. I remember meeting him as if it were yesterday. 

Vampires are drawn to struggling animals, it makes for a cleaner and quicker hunt to take out an animal that’s close to death anyway. Some vampires completely ignore this instinct and go for healthy, thriving pray. They get pulled into it by the thrill of the hunt and – to be honest – a fresher and more filling meal. But that’s never been how I do things, I feel better about taking lives if they’re basically gone anyway. 

So, on that night while I was hunting, I was drawn to him, the smell of his fear and despair pulling me in so strongly. The scent filled my nostrils beautifully, so enticingly, like how a sweetly smelling flower draws in a bee. He was staggering along down a back alley completely alone and confused as hell. There was a gash along his forearm and the blood stain on his white shirt was spreading at an alarming rate. I watched as his quivering form collapsed to the damp ground. 

The closer I got to him the more his smell became something more familiar, that of a vampire. Newly changed. 

Of course I took him in. I had to look after him and teach him about who and _what_ he was now. 

It took a while but soon Jean came to terms with his new life, well not strictly _life_ but... well, you get the picture. 

May times he would wake up screaming for help, stuttering about piercing blue eyes and white-blonde hair, giant men and the terrifying glint of a knife's edge. Jean would grab out for something, anything and I would always come running to hold him. 

Jean is strong, that’s for sure, but we all need help now and again.

I’d been alone for so long and company was something strange and foreign to me. I’d never craved for it before I met the other man. I quickly fell for him and it soon became apparent that he felt the same way. I’ve been around for years but I have never been more in love with anyone than I am with Jean. These years together have been the best of my long, long life. Well… Afterlife? I almost grin at the thought. He’s so insistent upon being my savoir since I was his all those years ago. 

“Glad I‘m not the only one,” Jean says, face relaxing. He shuts his eyes and scrunches his face up in deep thought for a moment before his eyes snap back open, wide and shining. His face takes on a somewhat distressed expression. “No matter how hard… how hard I try, I-I just can’t remember.” 

I notice the dampness at the corners of his eyes and I feel a twinge of pain in my chest. I make a show of studying his features – although I don’t need to at all, I could describe the blonde’s face down to the smallest detail without even trying. 

“Well, I guess I'l just have to help out then," I suggest. 

A furrow appears between his brows before he realises what I mean. His face lights up in a crooked grin. "Okay then."

With that, I begin.

"Your eyes are the closest shade to gold that I’ve ever seen before in a person – and, I’ve been around for a bit,” that draws a laugh from Jean. “They’re quite heavy-lidded, and when you frown you get these little lines here,” I gesture to the places on my own face. 

I chuckle a little before saying, “And right now, the eyeliner on your left lower lash line is smudged. It’s actually been like that all day, I just didn’t have the heart to tell you. You usually do it so well free-hand.” 

“Hey! We went out today,” Jean protests, wiping at the underneath of his eye. The smudge stays, dark against his smooth skin like a blot of ink on an otherwise flawless white page. 

I laugh a little and roll my eyes. “We went shopping at the local market, Jean. No one cared for your smudged makeup, and it was pretty dark out. I'm sure nobody noticed, 'kay?” 

Jean looks reluctant to do so but lets it go with a huff. He gestures with his hand for me to carry on with my descriptions. 

“Um, you have a thin, long nose. You wrinkle it when you find something unpleasant or embarrassing, every time. I like it when you do that, it’s adorable.” I lean over and kiss the tip of the blonde’s nose and he instantly scrunches it up, proving my point to be true. I just have to laugh. Jean groans and his cheekbones gain a faint pink tinge. 

“ _Marcooo_...” Jean whines dramatically as he covers his face. 

“Okay, back to the point. Move your hands, how do I describe something I can’t see?” I pry his hands away and grin at his grumpy features. I take them in mine, playing with his slender fingers absent-mindedly as I continue. 

“It’s crooked, from where you broke it. It sort of goes left a little around this point,” I gently tap the bridge of his nose where the break is most prominent and he blinks cutely at the contact. It had happened in his childhood – no vampire healing back then. I smile, “Who did you say broke it?” 

Jean grunts, “Ugh, that fucker Er- um, Jaeger…” He trails off at the end of his sentence, eyes becoming distant. 

We enter dangerous waters as Jean mentions one of his old friends – one of the people from before he was turned. This is not a good subject, I try not to let Jean dwell on those guys, it only upsets him. 

We went to all their funerals and Jean got to say the real goodbye he never had the chance for after being changed. Every one that we attended, Jean and I made sure to wrap up in clothing that concealed our identities and stuck to the back of the crowds gathered by each fresh grave. I remember Jeager died way before the others – stabbed in the street after protecting a stranger. Jean scoffed when he found out, “ _that’s just so Eren_ ” was all he said. He tried to seem nonchalant while I was around as he always does but I knew he was hurting real bad. He cried the most at Jaeger’s funeral – Jean always tells me it was because it was the first and that the events got easier each time an old friend passed but… I have an inkling that before me, Jean only ever had eyes for his Eren. 

Leaving people behind is a part of being a vampire and I always make sure he remembers that. I’m not saying he should let them go, but he still needs to understand that he can’t be upset about it forever. He can still be happy even if they’re gone, they’d want him to be happy. From what I know of them, they were all great people that wouldn’t want him to dwell on the bad parts of the past. He has to remember the good things and learn to accept. He’s getting there. 

I change the direction of the conversation before he can get upset. I start to describe another part of my lover. 

“Your teeth are normal (when your others are retracted, that is). Not straight, not particularly wonky. Two are visibly chipped. Tha’ one, ‘nd tha’ one.” The last sentence sounds a little scrambled as I point out the two teeth in my own mouth while still talking. Jean chuckles. “You have really nice lips, thin and a really pretty pink. Your eyebrows are the same pale brown of your eyelashes and stubble when you forget to shave.” 

Jean’s lips always look so soft even though he’s constantly chewing at them, if the skin breaks – which it does regularly – it just heals back as flawless as before. The lip chewing is just habitual but he likes to play with his left lip stud when he’s nervous. 

“You have a slender face, prominent cheekbones and – don’t take this the wrong way – it’s kind of on the long side…” I say cautiously, waiting for his reply with a furrow between my brows. 

“Gee, thanks, Mar’,” he says, a smirk on his lips. “Tell a guy he looks like a horse and expect him to ‘not take it the wrong way’.” 

He’s teasing but I wince a little anyway, “Sorry.” 

“Never mind. It’s been said before,” he comments with an eye roll. 

“You know the colour of your hair, you see the off cuts when I give it the chop, right?” I ask. 

He nods a little then he looks to me, his brow knitted. “But that’s not the same as knowing what it looks like. Tell me.” 

“Okay, okay. Um, the longer bits on top are a dark blonde, very almost brown. The shorter bits of your undercut _are_ brown. You have these really gorgeous natural streaks of a lighter blonde at the front," I comment. I reach out and twirl a lock of Jean's hair around my finger. 

"When you wake up it’s everywhere, sticking up all over the place. You have the worst bed head, Jean. I swear.” I laugh just thinking about it. He always ends up rolling out of bed looking as if he’s been dragged through a hedge backwards.

I wait for a bit and go through what I've said. I'm pretty sure I've covered everything, I ask to make sure. "Is that okay? Need anything more?"

 

He closes his eyes, pale eyelashes resting against his cheekbones. “No... That’s good, it’s good. I-I have a really good picture, Marco. Maybe it’s a bit off but… by putting those features onto the fuzzy image I had before is working out.” 

Jean’s eyes are still closed when his lips begin to tremble and he lets out a shaky, “T-thanks, Marco. I don’t even care if it’s off. I can remember.” 

He sniffs loudly and I shuffle over to him. I fit my head into the curve of his neck and snuggle into him. “That’s great,” I whisper softly against his collar bone. He shivers at the feeling of my breath on his bare skin. “That’s so great, right?” 

“Y-yeah,” Jean breathes. "It is."

**Author's Note:**

> yes, i know i made up a load of stuff about vampires for the story but, hey, i wrote it
> 
> thanks for reading! ~*


End file.
